


got your finger on the trigger but your trigger finger's mine

by dexdefyingstunts



Series: perfect murder [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Blood, Dark Dick Grayson, Dom Dick Grayson, Gun Kink, Gun Violence, M/M, Murder, Murder Husbands, Power Bottom Dick Grayson, Praise Kink, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexdefyingstunts/pseuds/dexdefyingstunts
Summary: “I was very clear,” Dick says, still smiling brightly. “No drug trade in Gotham without my go-ahead.”Or: That bit in Under the Red Hood where Jason kills a bunch of people and takes over organized crime in Gotham, but make it JayDick and also make it murder husbands.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Series: perfect murder [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111631
Comments: 32
Kudos: 218





	got your finger on the trigger but your trigger finger's mine

**Author's Note:**

> I just had this thought about JayDick as murder husbands and could not let it go. The following fic contains blood, murder, and death, described in somewhat gory detail. If that's a nope for you, I totally get it and no hard feelings! Read at your own discretion.
> 
> Title is from "Copycat" by Billie Eilish.

Dick smiles.

The people of Gotham talk about Nightwing’s smile, he knows. It’s not demented and manic, like the Joker’s was. It’s not cruel, sadistic, and calculating, like Black Mask’s was. No, it’s a bright, genuine, happy smile. The kind of smile that promises good things, joyful and confident. _Robin_ ’s smile.

Maybe that’s why it’s so terrifying.

Dick’s up on a catwalk, perched on top of the railing casual as anything, looking down at the scene below him. The warehouse is full of mob men, Don Brancato’s. At least twenty of them. He’s caught them mid-operation of their drug ring, crates of heroine stacked to one side. But it won’t be crowded with these men for long.

“I was very clear,” Dick says, still smiling brightly. “No drug trade in Gotham without my go-ahead.”

The crowd is shifting, and the men look at each other, trying to figure out what to do, several of them drawing guns. Other than that, they seem frozen in place, their gaze shifting from the duffle bag on the table, up to Dick’s crouching form, and then back down again. From inside the bag, the severed head of Don Brancato looks up at them all. Or would, if his eyes hadn’t been gouged out, leaving dark, empty, bloody pits in their place. A streak of dried blood runs down the side of his face, as though he were crying a single rusty brown tear. Fresh blood is still seeping out from the bottom of it, soaking into the black fabric underneath. That happens, when a body is only a few hours removed from when it used to be walking around.

“Fuck off,” one of the men growls out, leveling a gun directly at Dick’s head. “You can’t beat the fuckin families.”

Around him, there’s a general agreement, and Dick finds himself on the business end of at least fifteen different handguns.

It’s almost cute, the way they think that matters.

“Kill the bird,” says one of the other thugs. Several of them nod, and at least two start to run towards the side, heading for the stairs to the catwalk.

Dick’s smile grows even wider. It’s glittering, he knows, full of that old Robin charm.

Dick snaps his fingers once, and several things happen at once.

The mob men unload, and the air fills with the sound of gunfire, as they all fire up towards the balcony, shot after shot ringing out.

Dick launches himself backwards off the railing, flipping in midair a few times, the bullets whizzing past him and missing him entirely.

And the mob men start to fall.

One has the back of his head explode open, brains and blood flying everywhere. Another is racked by the impact of several bullets to the chest and falls to his knees. Four more drop like flies, from no discernable source. Near the back of the crowd, a man takes a shot directly to the face, blasting open his nose and mouth and leaving a gaping, horrible mass behind, sending his dead body careening backwards.

Dick lands lightly one level down and ducks nimbly behind a pillar, taking cover. The crowd of men is shouting and yelling, starting to run in every which direction, glancing wildly about to try to figure out where the bullets are coming from. More shots ring out in a horrible, deafening cacophony, some from the thugs below, firing at Dick and also haphazardly into the warehouse in every which direction. Some come from a perch to one side, up on the levels, carefully hidden in shadow.

The two men who ran for the stairs make it up to Dick’s level of the catwalk. They start to fire at him from the other end, blasting in his direction, aiming to kill.

Dick grins and runs directly towards them.

He knocks directly into one of the men’s middle, ducking his head and driving forward, pushing him into the other man. The second man curses and tries to fire again, but Dick makes sure that the first man’s body is in the way, and he only succeeds in firing point blank into his friend’s chest. Dick twists and rolls, popping back up behind the second man, grabbing his neck from behind and _twisting_. The man’s neck snaps easily, and Dick drops him, shoving his corpse off the catwalk to tumble heavily to the floor below.

The number of shots starts to subside as more and more men fall, slowly to a trickle, an occasional _crack._ Beneath him, Dick sees one of the thugs make a break for it, sprinting desperately for the far exit.

He’s not going to make it.

Dick takes a running start, leaping up on top of the railing, and launching himself into the sky. He grabs onto one of the beams on the ceiling and uses it to throw himself forwards, body flying through the air, directly at the fleeing man. Dick flips once, twice, and then lands, directly on the man’s back, taking him to the ground. The man lets out a grunt at the impact, then says, “Fuck, no-” But that’s as far as he gets, because Dick has already flipped out a delicate, elegant little blade, and he’s running it across the man’s throat. Anything else he might have wanted to say is lost in the gurgle of fresh, warm, blood, bubbling up out of his mouth, and spilling all over Dick’s hands, flowing between his fingers, the bright red painting across the black and dark blue of his gloves.

The warehouse has gone silent.

Dick stands up and turns around.

Behind him is a scene of carnage, the two dozen men now nothing more than a heap of broken, bloody corpses. Striding towards him, guns still held out at the ready, face hidden by his red helmet, is Jason. There’s blood spattered across one side of his helmet, and more of it sprayed over his brown leather jacket. He looks like an angry god, like vengeance, like death incarnate. Dick couldn’t love him more.

Dick runs towards him and leaps up. Jason can’t exactly catch him, not with his hands full of guns, but he takes one step back to brace for the impact as Dick jumps up at him. Dick wraps his legs around Jason’s middle, grinning delightedly at him. His heart’s still racing from the adrenaline, the thrill, the blood dripping all over his hands.

“Hey there, little wing,” Dick says brightly. “You get them all?”

Jason snorts. “Of fuckin course I did.” He holsters his guns, sliding them back into their places on his hips, and his arms come to wrap around Dick, big strong hands settling gently across his back. Dick can hardly believe how big his little wing has gotten now, tall and broad and able to hold him easily, always catching him when Dick needs him to.

“Good.” Dick traces the red bat outline on Jason’s chest. It looks like it’s been splattered on there, the bright red streaks of blood from Dick’s finger matching it exactly. Dick reaches up to Jason’s helmet, nimble fingers finding the secret catch there. Jason stays still for him, arms holding tight, as Dick slides the helmet off, leaning down to clip it to Jason’s belt.

“Hey there, pretty bird,” Jason says, his voice a deep, dark growl. Dick slides a hand across the side of his neck, feels the way Jason’s pulse is rabbiting away, leaving pretty streaks of red behind.

“You did so good,” Dick murmurs, leaning in to kiss Jason sweetly. “You killed them all for me, didn’t you? You’re so _good_ at that. Such a good boy.”

Jason lets out a low groan, drawing Dick in closer, shifting his stance. Dick deepens the kiss, makes it filthy, licking into Jason’s mouth, sucking on his lips. “Always so good for me, little wing,” Dick breathes between kisses, saying the words into Jason’s mouth. The adrenaline’s starting to flow south, urged on by the kisses, starting a coil of heat down in his belly, between his legs. “Thank you for taking care of them for me. My perfect little robin-bird.”

Jason makes a strangled noise, surging up against Dick’s body. He starts walking them over, stepping heavily towards one of the walls, still kissing Dick feverishly. When they get there, Jason shoves him into it, pressing Dick firmly into the cold, rough concrete.

“We’re gonna own this town,” Dick promises, looking right into Jason’s eyes. “You and me. We’re gonna run this city better than the bat ever could, isn’t that right? It’ll be _ours_.”

“Fucking hell,” Jason growls out, eyes burning bright with desire. “God, yes. Fuckin _fuck_.”

“What is it, little wing?” Dick says sweetly, innocently, like he doesn’t know exactly what Jason wants. “Tell me what you need.”

Jason’s hips buck up, rubbing up towards Dick’s ass. “Goddammit. God fucking-” Dick cuts him off with a sharp bite to the neck, right above the armor, his teeth digging in painfully. “ _Fuck_ , Dickiebird, lemme fuck you.”

“I think you can ask nicer than that,” Dick murmurs, directly into Jason’s ear. “I think you can beg pretty for me, can’t you, little bird?” Dick reaches down to Jason’s belt, pulling out one of Jason’s handguns. It’s still warm from earlier, but not too hot anymore, not for what Dick’s planning.

Dick leans back against the wall, bringing the gun between them, pointing it directly at Jason’s face. Jason inhales sharply. Behind the domino mask, his eyes are focused sharply on the gun, staring down its barrel intensely. Jason licks his lips, which are all red and spit-slick, all kissed out.

“Ask nicely, little wing,” Dick purrs. He moves the gun closer, till it’s just barely an inch from Jason’s mouth. “Go on, I know you can be good.”

Jason’s tongue darts out, briefly glancing against the barrel of the gun.

“That’s good,” Dick praises. “I knew you could do it. Keep going, little wing.”

A soft little sound escapes Jason when Dick praises him, and Dick would have to be a fool to miss it, the way his words make Jason melt like butter in his palms. Jason shifts his grip on Dick, still using both hands to keep Dick braced up against the wall. Jason ducks his head forward, and starts to lick at the gun properly. He laves up and down one side, getting his nice and wet. His hot, pink tongue curls around it, worshipping the gun like it’s a cock, just like the good boy he is. Jason licks all over it slowly, deliberately, and Dick watches, mesmerized.

Dick starts to move the gun, rubbing it back and forth over Jason’s tongue. “That’s it,” Dick coos. “So good.” He starts to push the gun forward, easing it into Jason’s mouth. Jason’s mouth drops open obediently, and his lips wrap around the barrel, suckling gently, his eyes falling closed as he mouths around his own gun. It’s a devastating display of trust. Dick could pull the trigger, if he wanted to, and they both know it. He could blow Jason’s brains out. Jason would let him. “My good little bird, getting facefucked by your own gun.”

Jason makes a choked, muffled sound around the gun, and Dick smiles. He pulls the gun away, easing it gently out of Jason’s mouth. “Please,” Jason gasps out as soon as Dick takes the gun away. “Please lemme fuck you, _please_.”

“Good boy,” Dick says softly. He leans in to kiss Jason softly, his arms wrapping around Jason’s neck. His hand still has the gun in it, and the muzzle pushes into Jason’s soft black hair, brushing against his skull. “Good boy, asking nicely. You beg so pretty for me, little wing. You can have your reward now. You’ve earned it, being so good for me.”

Dick slides the gun back into Jason’s holster and leans back. Jason’s on him in an instant, as soon as he’s been given permission, his hands pawing all over Dick’s ass, going for the hidden catch in the fabric that pulls open, just enough to expose Dick’s hole. Dick pulls a little tube of lube out of one of his pockets, drizzling some onto his bloody fingers before tucking the bottle back away. Dick reaches behind himself with one gloved hand, rubbing fingers slick with blood and lube over his hole. He works one into himself, then two, all while Jason kisses him hungrily, rocking his hips up against him.

Dick slides his fingers out, grabs Jason’s wrist, and replaces them with Jason’s fingers. Two gloved fingers slide deep inside him. They’re much bigger than Dick’s, much more of a stretch, and Dick moans happily at the nice full feeling. Jason fucks his fingers inside of him, the coarse fabric of the gloves rubbing roughly, and he pushes at Dick’s prostate, making him whimper in pleasure, seeing stars.

Dick turns his fingers to Jason’s belt, undoing the catches and shoving Jason’s cup out of the way, pulling Jason’s cock out. Jason’s already so hard, his big, thick cock hot and heavy under Dick’s hands, and Dick starts to stroke it, smearing Jason’s precome around and mixing it with blood and lube, getting Jason’s cock nice and wet for him.

“Please,” Jason gasps out. “Dick, _please_ -”

Dick rises up in Jason’s arms, using his core muscles and his leverage against the wall. He pulls off of Jason’s fingers and slides down onto his cock, gasping out at Jason pushes into him, filling him up so fucking perfectly. “Fuck, yes,” Dick whimpers into Jason’s ear. “Fuck, little wing, you’re so big, feel so good inside me, fuck me, fuck me, _yes_.”

Jason lets out a low moan and starts fucking into Dick roughly, slamming him into the wall with every hard thrust. “Fucking shit, oh god, oh _fuck_ -” He ruts fast into Dick’s ass, driving into him over and over, fucking him so perfectly, rough and deep and so damn wonderful.

“So good,” Dick moans. “So good, little wing, so good, fuck me just like that.” He bites down on Jason’s neck again, hard enough to break the skin, to draw blood, and Dick laps up the bright little dots of blood seeping out of the bite, savoring the rich coppery taste in his mouth. His little wing, alive again. Alive and breathing and inside him, right where he belongs.

Jason’s motions start to get faster, his rhythm stuttering, his hips slamming into Dick’s ass in erratic little motions. “Please,” Jason begs, his voice rough and hoarse. “Can I come inside you, please?”

“Come for me,” Dick demands. “Come inside me, fill me up, I wanna feel it, go on-”

And Jason comes with a cry, his cock twitching inside of Dick’s ass, the warm wet feeling of Jason’s come spreading inside of Dick, as Jason goes still, body pressing forwards into Dick’s, shoving them both up against the wall.

“So good,” Dick says breathlessly, petting at Jason’s hair, pushing it back out of his face where it’s covered in blood and sweat. His hips are rocking up, rubbing his hard, aching cock against the hard sections of armor over Jason’s stomach. His cock is straining through the front of his Nightwing suit. It’s so unbearably hot, the feeling of Jason’s thick cock in his ass, the warm, wet come dripping out of his hole, burying his face in the broad, muscled expanse of Jason’s shoulder. The way Jason’s holding him up right now, how he’s grown up so big and strong that he’s still pinning Dick to the wall easily. The blood all over both of them. The knowledge that Jason killed all these people for him, that he’d do it again, that he’d do anything Dick wanted.

“Please,” Jason says, panting heavily, his hand coming between them to rub at the bulge in the front of Dick’s suit, rocking his cock in little motions inside of Dick’s ass. His big, strong hand feels so good, engulfing Dick’s cock, and Dick cries out, pushing into the pressure. “Come for me, Dickie-”

“So good,” Dick gasps again, rutting hard into Jason’s palm, squeezing his ass around Jason’s cock, loving the way it’s grinding into his prostate. “So good, so good, _fuck!_ ” Dick comes hard with a shout, spilling come inside of his pants, everything whiting out with sheer pleasure, sharp and bright and _wonderful_.

Dick comes back to himself just as Jason’s sinking down to the ground. Jason gets himself seated, and Dick settles himself in Jason’s lap, nuzzling into his shoulder, arms wrapped around Jason’s back, Jason’s cock still seated deeply inside his ass. Jason gathers Dick into his arms, holding on tightly, hugging Dick close.

“You were so good for me,” Dick says softly, pressing a kiss to Jason’s forehead. Jason shudders, clinging on ever tighter, and Dick rubs his back gently, making soothing, gentle circles with his thumb. “You’re my good boy.”

“Yours,” Jason rasps out. He looks up at Dick, his soft blue eyes worshipful. “All yours.”

Dick smiles. “Mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this goes without saying, but the author does not condone murder and also if you're going to do gunplay in real life you should be much, much safer about it.
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> If you have ideas/prompts/requests for this verse, I would love to hear them! (Anybody want to watch Jason and Dick brutally murder the Joker together or is that just me??)


End file.
